


Bring Back the Warmth

by SereneFreakGeek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Bullying, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Self Hate, WIP, a lot of warnings for this one guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-03-07 03:32:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneFreakGeek/pseuds/SereneFreakGeek
Summary: Draco Malfoy, infamous heir to the Malfoy line, the nemesis of The Boy Who Lived, and the only death eater to have not been sent to Azkaban. He was public enemy number one. Why was he back at Hogwarts though? To escape the letters. To escape the death threats and the hexes and the- right, the Manor had been burned. Not completely, just one half of it. The half that he had been staying in. Thankfully his mother had been staying in the other half, still is. He can't say he's sad to see that part of the building gone though.Draco is getting by, barely, in his new life post-war. His daily routine is the same, get hexed and gather detentions that he didn't deserve while attempting to finish his education. Why does that suddenly change one day when none other than Harry Potter decides to talk to him?





	1. Chapter 1

Silence. That's all he heard. Or didn't hear. Who was he again?

Oh that's right. Draco Malfoy, infamous heir to the Malfoy line, the nemesis of The Boy Who Lived, and the only death eater to have not been sent to Azkaban. The letters were hell, the Howlrs he received daily, never ceasing even when he put in a request through the post office to make his address private, to only allow letters from certain individuals. They didn't listen, of course they didn't listen. Everyone hated Draco now. He was public enemy number one.

Draco tried to get his mind off of this train of thought, there was no reason to go down that rail again. He blinked his eyes open slowly, already adjusted to the darkness surrounding him as he stared up at the canopy above his bed. What was he doing here? Why was he back at Hogwarts? Oh yeah, to escape the letters. To escape the death threats and the hexes and the- right, the Manor had been burned. Not completely, just one half of it. The half that he had been staying in. Thankfully his mother had been staying in the other half, still is. He can't say he's sad to see that part of the building gone though.

Draco sighed, raising a hand to rub his palm against his eyes, his frail fingers curling into a fist to keep the emotions inside. Too many emotions, too many thoughts. Too many threats, too many hexes, too many curses and screams aimed in his direction. Why was he here again? Not just Hogwarts but- in general?

He sat up, shaking his head. No, he wouldn't give up. Things will get better, they have to. It's not like anything could get worse from here. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, pulling the curtains on his bed to the side and gathering what he needs for his morning shower that he had already prepared last night. He glanced around his room, spying the empty bed across from his own. He would have to remember to write a thank you letter to the Headmistress for allowing him to have a room to himself. If there had been anyone else in here he wouldn't have been able to sleep. He probably would have just left Hogwarts altogether. He felt almost safe in this room, alone- but no, he was never safe anymore. Just in a less threatening position behind his door full of protective spells.

He took his things into the adjoining bathroom- perks of living in the eighth year dormitory now, a renovated old teacher's wing- and began to undress slowly for his shower. He lifted his wand, casting several protective spells against the bathroom door as well. Double the defences while he was in such a vulnerable position. He placed his wand near the shower, where he could easily reach if he needed to, and stepped in. He let the water run cold, probably too cold, but any kind of heat scared him. He didn't mind admitting it. Almost dying in a fiendfyre, waking up in the middle of the night to his bedroom burning around him? Yeah, he definitely didn't enjoy the heat much anymore. 

The cold woke him up more, opened all of his senses, as he let it rush over his body. He knew he couldn't be in here for too long, the cold beginning to bite a bit too harshly over his skin, but he spent as much time as he could cleaning himself. Finally, once he decided it was enough, he turned off the water and stepped out, drying himself with his towel. Still naked he walked over toward the mirror above the sink, staring at himself. He was so disfigured, so ugly now. He hated himself, he hated his skin. The dark mark clearly showing against his left forearm, the scarred slashes criss-crossing on his chest, the burn mark snaking up his right side- starting at the hip and winding up across his chest in tendrils, one even making it close to his right nipple. He scowled, shaking his head. He can't break this mirror too, it's in Hogwarts so who knows if he'd be able to repair it by himself again.

Reaching for his red potion bottle, he unstoppered it and poured some of the lotion-thick substance onto his hand, moving to rub it against the scarred burn. His wound flamed up, heating his side as if he was in the fire once again. Draco was able to hold in his shouts this time, after so much practice. After having to relive the pain daily. He rubbed in the ointment, shaking his head in disgust at himself. Finishing up, he stoppered the bottle once more, placing it back onto the counter next to his sink, and climbing into his clothes quickly. He was so tired of having to look at his skin, at himself at all. 

Pocketing his wand he rushed out of the bathroom, trying to control his breathing. In and out, in and out. In four seconds, wait six seconds, out seven seconds. Something like that, right? Pansy had taught him one day how to control himself, how to help himself whenever he began going through a panic attack once again. After that one time he blacked out in front of his friends, he had vowed never to do that again.

Shaking his head, he tried to calm his thoughts while he gathered his school supplies, sliding books and quills and inkwells into his shoulder bag. Once the thoughts didn't stop he began reciting self-protection spells, shield charms, everything he'll need to know out in the halls soon to distract himself. He began his preparations immediately, casting three protection charms before breathing once again and stepping into the hall of the boy's dormitory. The hall was empty, a small miracle thus far, and he began his journey in to the rest of the castle.

\-----

He could see the crushed dragonnails floating just a foot away from his cauldron. Did they think he couldn't? He watched it out of the corner of his eye float slowly toward him, inch by inch, and Draco took a deep breath. He could get in trouble for knocking it out of the air and wasting ingredients. If he let it go into his cauldron he could get in trouble for exploding his potion and putting others in danger. What was the best course of action?

"Malfoy," A familiar voice startled him, missing the slice he was cutting and cutting into his skin instead.

"Ah, merlin," Draco whispered, hissing as he shook his hand, turning to see the head of messy hair that he knew he would see. He glanced back down toward his hand, watching blood sprout over his finger, lifting it to place into his mouth and suck, licking the wound. Pulling his finger out, he glanced up and noticed concern in Potter's eyes- but why? Was he afraid he'd get in trouble for accidentally causing Draco to cut himself? If anything Draco would get in trouble for not bowing at his feet right now. "What is it, Potter? Come over here to make sure I failed my brewing just the same as you, did you?"

"No, I just-" Potter hesitated, glancing over Draco's shoulder as his eyebrows furrowed, "Wait, is that-"

"Get down, Potter," Draco mumbled, closing his eyes and grasping his wand inside his robes, mumbling another protective spell over himself.

"What?" Potter said, turning furrowed eyebrows back to him. Draco rolled his eyes, exasperated, opening his mouth to repeat himself when it finally happened. The ingredients were dropped into his cauldron, causing an immediate explosion and pushing Draco toward Potter with the force of it. He knocked into the other boy, both of them tumbling onto the ground, and Draco could field a shard of the cauldron that would have impaled him bounce harmlessly off of his shield, though he could feel his magic draining slightly from the exertion.

"Draco Malfoy!" The new potions professor, after Snape and since Slughorn refused to come back, was an older woman with wrinkled, shaking hands and a stern face. She was in no fit condition to brew potions herself, with her bouts of shaking and inch-thick glasses on her nose, though she felt the need to be superior over everyone else in the class anyhow. Draco pushed himself to his feet, coughing in the remaining green smoke filling the air, and glanced up to meet the eyes of Professor Gallentrix. "Fifty points from Slytherin for endangering this class, and-"

"Wait," Draco startled at Potter's voice, glancing down at the boy still sprawled against the floor.

"Oh, did you hurt Mr. Potter too? Did you plan this on purpose, Mr. Malfoy? Detention-"

"No, Professor, hold on!" Potter stood, wiping green dust off of his robes and glaring- wait, glaring?- up toward the woman. She froze, her eyes widening as she took in Potter's stance. "It wasn't his fault. I saw the ingredients that caused the explosion float into his cauldron, he didn't do that himself."

She seemed taken aback for a few seconds, though admittedly it seemed everyone in class was, including Draco himself. She cleared her throat, straightening her robes and looking down over her nose at Potter. "How do we know he didn't charm it to float in himself? To make it seem like he was innocent?"

"Why would Malfoy want to mess up his own cauldron, Professor- ah," Potter hesitated, his eyes widening slightly as he seems to forget her name.

"Professor Gallentrix!" She screeches, widening her eyes in anger toward him.

"Yes, of course. Professor Gallentrix. Malfoy has always been good in this class. He would never purposefully sabotage his own potion, especially when he knows he'll get in trouble for it." Potter takes a deep breath, watching the Professor's slow reaction.

"Then who do you think did it, Potter?" She asked, raising her eyebrows toward him. He lifted a hand, rubbing the back of his head.

"I didn't actually see- uh, Malfoy? Do you know?" Potter turned toward him, the green eyed gaze trained on his own eyes and he felt his breath leave him quickly. Why was he putting him on the spot like this? Why was he defending him in the first place?

"No," Draco quietly lied, glancing down toward his feet. Professor Gallentrix made a 'Hmph!' of triumph, turning toward Draco.

"Well since there is no proof that it was someone else, fifty points from Slytherin as I said before, and a week of detention here with me, scrubbing cauldrons after dinner. Understood, Malfoy?" Draco glanced up, meeting her gaze and nodding. He saw something sinister flash in her eyes, but she spun around, letting her robes twirl around her as she began to walk away.

"Hey, wait, that's not fair-!" Potter began to yell out, but Draco quickly reached up and grabbed his sleeve, yanking down the hand that had immediately raised to try to get the professor's attention.

"Drop it, Potter," Draco whispered, raising his eyes toward the golden boy. He watched Potter's eyes turn toward him, raised in surprise, before lowering his hand and not saying anything else. 

"Class dismissed, my little newts!" The professor cheerfully called from the front of the classroom, "Leave your potions on the table and I'll take a look at them all and grade them accordingly!" She yelled over the rush of students trying to leave the classroom. Draco stared into Potter's eyes for a few moments more before he blinked, coming back to himself and moving to gather his things into his school bag, turning and rushing toward the exit. 

Draco didn't mind pushing past people to get ahead, none of them bothered to call him out on how he walked since most were too scared of him to begin with. He was glad that no one said anything since being inside a crowd tended to be safer in the long run for him; most people shooting hexes his way wouldn't risk it if there were a student or two that could get hit instead.

"Malfoy!" He heard his name called from the exit of the potions classroom, and Draco shook his head, speeding his steps to try and escape the questions he knew that Potter was bound to ask. He darted around the nearest corner, jogged up some steps before entering a lone hall practically running, but he wasn't fast enough.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, wait!" Draco sighed at this, glancing around the empty hallway. He couldn't exactly full on sprint away now, could he, without looking like an utter fool? He slowly turned, letting his eyes glance out the floor to ceiling length windows and study the forest scenery in front of him.

"What is it, Potter?" He asked quietly, though in the silence of the hall he was easily heard, he knew. Potter slowed down to a walk, then stopped about two feet from where Draco stood, both standing in the middle of the hall. It was still bright outside, and while Draco enjoyed the scenery in front of him, he hated feeling like he was on display for anyone (Potter) to see. 

"Why didn't you defend yourself?" Straight to the point, then? Draco sighed, fidgeting in place under Potter's heavy stare. He couldn't exactly say the truth, then, could he? What was it that Potter wanted to hear?

"What do you mean?" Draco answered, not daring to look up into Potter's eyes. His bright green eyes, Draco could imagine so vividly. No, he's been through this before. If he looks into Potter's eyes then he can't think straight. And he needs to be able to think straight to avoid whatever problem Potter wants to bring up right now.

"In the class. You were just going to take the punishment that she was handing out! Like it didn't matter."

"It doesn't matter," Draco snapped, without thinking, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Maybe it's not Potter's eyes, maybe it's just talking to him in general. "Look, I was going to get in trouble either way. You saw that. Fighting it would've only made the punishment worse on my end." Maybe if he imagined he was talking to someone else, anyone else, then he could keep his head?

"It's not right," Blaise said, and Draco rolled his eyes behind his eyelids.

"But it's just what happens. It's been proven time and again."

"It's not fair," Pansy exclaimed, and Draco smirked, shaking his head.

"Nothing is fair, in life. In this world." 

"Fucking look at me, Malfoy!" Potter yelled, and Draco startled so much that he did- he opened his eyes and looked directly into Potter's brilliantly shining green eyes and- oh fuck. It was definitely his eyes that messed with Draco's head. "What is with you this year? I didn't expect full on hostility but you- I mean, I watch you- Uh, not watch but like, see you, and these people are just- they act like bloody kids, and I guess they are kids but you know what I mean, and just they throw these hexes at you and you don't do anything! Anything to deserve it, or anything in retribution! And you've been so quiet, I just-"

"Why do you care?" Draco screamed, snapping at Harry with the first and only thing to come to his mind during Potter's stumbling rant. Afterward they both stared at each other in the remaining silence, the cheerful sunny day feeling odd next to them as they both breathed heavily amongst the thick tension. Draco waited, watching Potter's eyes as emotions flickered through them, resting on confusion. Of course, Potter doesn't know why he cares either. Draco took a step back, shaking his head slowly, and Potter seemed to blink a few times, matching the step toward Draco.

"Wait," He began, reaching out his hand, but Draco took another step back, shaking his head again.

"No," Draco said firmly, clearing his throat and taking one more step back. He took a deep breath, straightening his robes before looking Potter in the eyes, hoping he could see how serious he was. "It doesn't matter. None of it does. I'm public enemy number one, I'm sure you know. This is just what I have to go through, my retribution for the war." Draco flinches, but takes a deep breath and continues, "So don't bother caring. Don't bother standing up for me anymore. This is just the way things are now."

"It shouldn't be," Potter growled through his teeth, clenching his jaw as he raised his hand toward Draco as if to grab him, and looking at Draco in anger, though he realized that Potter wasn't exactly angry at Draco. Just at the situation. Why?

"Why do you care?" Draco repeated, raising his eyebrows toward the boy wonder, the saviour that was trying to save him too. Except, no one could save him now. He watched Harry clench his outstretched hand into a fist, though those green eyes never left his. They were silent for another moment before Draco let out the breath he was holding, shaking his head. "Figure that out Potter. Once you realize there's no reason you should care, then maybe you'll follow my advice."

Draco spun on his heel, walking away from the angry boy and hoping that he wouldn't try to follow again. He didn't.

\-----

Another morning, another glancing into the mirror to see his scars and marks, and fresh hexes that he applied medicine on to reduce the swelling. He rubbed his burn ointment onto his side, then dressed in his clothes and left the bathroom before he shattered the mirror. It was an ever present thought every time he entered his bathroom. He tried not to enter it too often because of that. 

He wandered through the halls in yet another day of attempting to dodge hexes, going to detentions he didn’t earn, and homework piles that he completed before anyone else considering he didn’t have anyone to bother him while he was trying to study. He thought of writing some letters, to his mother perhaps, or Pansy who had decided she was going to skip this ‘eighth year nonsense’ and do something practical like tour France learning how to design clothes with the elitists in that field. 

“Malfoy,” He interrupted Draco’s thoughts as he sat in the quiet of the library, raindrops and students mumbling under their breath the only other noise he could hear. Until now. Draco glanced up, eyeing Potter as he stood next to his desk before raising one eyebrow, tilting his head to lay against his fist. 

“What is it?” Draco asked, sighing as if this conversation was physically taxing to him. It almost is, considering how tired he is and how often he doesn’t talk to others. 

“I have your answer.” Draco furrowed his brow, studying Potter’s posture before gesturing to the seat across from him. Potter looked almost surprised at this before he looked determined, sliding into the seat.

“What answer? For the potions essay we were assigned? I already completed that-”

“No, for your question. That you asked me the other day.” Draco furrowed his brow again, remembering the conversation they had. How could he forget? Potter began fidgeting with his hands, glancing toward the table between them. “You know, about- your question that was. Uh, ‘Why do I care’?” He glanced up, and his nervousness showed in his eyes before steely resolve fixated him once again. “I have your answer.”

Draco held his breath without realizing it, tensing his body as he prepared to leave. He didn’t want to hear this answer, this answer would change everything. There shouldn’t  _ be _ a reason he cared, he shouldn’t care about him at all. Draco remained silent as Harry stared at him, expecting some sort of response. A few minutes ticked by before Harry took a deep breath, glancing back at the table between them and tracing a crack in the wood with his finger.

“I care because you’ve always been a big part of my life. Whether you were my nemesis, or the enemy seeker, or a soldier on the wrong side of the war, or eventually the one who saved my life at the manor, or the one who threw me their wand during the battle-” Harry took a deep breath, closing his eyes and squeezing them before looking to Draco. “You’ve always been there. You’re a part of me, of my life, and it feels weird not to have you there. I’m not saying that I want to enemies anymore,” Harry quickly amended, biting his lip, “But, something else. Friends, hopefully.” Draco’s body shook with shock after hearing the word. Friends? 

“Why?” Draco whispered, furrowing his brow. He just didn’t understand this. It made no sense.

“I care Draco,” The use of his first name shocked him once again, and Draco felt he honestly shouldn’t be getting so surprised with every word coming out of his mouth. “I care about you, and I’m trying to be selfish for once and take what I want. I want you to be my friend.” Harry spoke quickly, his words running together, but Draco heard it all. Yet he still didn’t  _ understand _ .

“Okay.”

He watched Potter’s face blink in shock, then smile brightly, a bit goofily admittedly, before speaking again. “Wait, really? You mean it?” Harry spoke quickly, leaning forward in his chair and grinning that stupid smile, that really shouldn’t make his stomach flutter, toward him. Draco just rolled his eyes, attempting to keep his own smile off of my face.

“You’re really asking if I mean it, Potter?” Draco glanced down toward his empty parchment in front of him that he had intended to write letters on. He really just wanted to look anywhere but at that stupid grin that was making him want to grin as well. “Do you think I’d say anything I didn’t actually mean?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Potter admitted, and Draco glanced up with one eyebrow raised, taking in the cockiness of that statement. “And I should know, I’ve been watching you for years.” Draco raised the other eyebrow, holding back his laugh. Potter just grinned along with his stupid joke though, reaching down to take out some parchment from his own bag. “But anyway, you said you’re done with the potions assignment already? Could you help me with mine?”


	2. Chapter 2

Draco smelt smoke. He didn’t understand why though? He felt like he should know, and that was bothering him more than anything else. Usually the manor was perfectly clean, no foreign smells permeating anywhere. Especially in his room. Draco sat up in his bed, glancing up at the clouds of billowing smoke curling above him close to the ceiling. He tilted his head, furrowing his brow as he studied the way it moved, the colour of it. It was sort of off? Oh, it was a slightly blue tint. 

Draco widened his eyes, realization coming to him and knocking the breath out of him. He stood quickly, running across the room to his owl cage, looking inside to the small owl sleeping there, a baby that was barely even able to fly yet. He shook the cage slightly to wake her up, fumbling with the lock on the cage. He watched her blink awake and kept fumbling, feeling heat on the other side of the wall he was next to. 

“Nestra, wake up, we have to go,” Draco said quickly, glancing around and noticing purple flames licking up the side of the wall. He finally opened the cage, reaching in to grab his owl and run over toward the nearest window, trying to open it with one hand. He was struggling, couldn’t get it open, and the fire was spreading fast. He cursed, turning his face away and shielding Nestra before rearing back and punching through the window, hissing as his fist began stinging from being cut. He looked back, punching out whatever shards remained before thrusting Nestra outside, holding her in his palm and looking at her desperately. 

“Fly, Nestra. Fly away, please.” She blinked at him, looking down below the hand she sat on and back at him before flapping her wings hesitantly. “Go, please!”

He yelled, his brows furrowing in worry. She began flapping in earnest, hovering lightly before he withdrew his hands, glancing around quickly. The flames were getting closer and he glanced down toward the ground. He was many, many stories up. He glanced back toward his owl, still flying nearby and staring at him. “Go!” He screamed, one last time, before turning and trying to dodge around the flames, bursting through his bedroom door and into the hallway.

Purple flames licked up every side of him, surrounding him in a whirl of cool colours and harsh lighting. He had to find his way out, he had to find his mother. He began running, the long hallways of the Manor now seeming an enemy to him as he couldn’t quite reach where he needed to get to. Suddenly, as if the Manor itself wanted to keep him trapped, the hallways began to elongate, stretching before him. He took a random turn and that began to stretch as well. The flames drew closer, and Draco finally stopped, spinning around in place and seeing only stretched hallways and flames drawing closer. 

The first flame licked up his right side and he cried out, curling into a ball on the ground, screaming as the purple overcame his vision. His skin burned and itched, his throat felt harsh and everything was growing darker around the edges, even in the middle of the pure light the fire produced.

Draco woke up screaming, his burn on his side flaring to intense pain, and he took a moment to right himself, to glance around and make sure he was still in Hogwarts, in his room and not surrounded by that purple flame. The flame that burns down anything, despite magical charms or protections. He swung his feet over the side of his bed, standing and stumbling into the bathroom. His hands were shaking, fumbling with the contents on the counter, on his shelf, knocking bottles over until finally he grabbed hold of what he had been wanting. Opening it quickly, he raised the side of his nightshirt and smeared the ointment onto his skin. The burn had curled up, looking closer to how it did when he first got it instead of the scar it has been. Placing the ointment on the broken skin and rubbing it in seemed to smooth out the flesh, turning a pale pink instead of the irritated red, and resuming the look of past pain instead of current.

He let out a breath once the pain had faded completely, setting the open bottle onto the counter and glancing up to his reflection. He looked like utter shit, his hair plastered to his face from sweat, his pajamas wrinkled, his shirt half exposing his torso. His scars showing. He shook his head, growling low in his throat before turning around and leaving the mess of his bathroom alone. He could take care of that later.

\-----

Draco took his seat in his potions class, toward the middle of the classroom even though no one ever seemed to see him. It was like they were looking straight through him unless they were bullying him. His partner seat always remained empty, no matter how many students, odd or even, there were in the class. He took a deep breath, lowering his head as Professor Gallentrix strode into the classroom and began smiling to each student besides himself, as if she knew she was loved dearly. From the way some kids smiled back, they must actually have a high opinion of her. They must not know anything about potions then, otherwise they’d know how unqualified she really was to be teaching this subject.

The chair next to him scraped against the floor as it was pulled out, and Draco blinked a few times before glancing over toward the body plopping itself into the empty seat. “Potter?” He whispered furiously over to him, turning around to look behind himself and to the right, where Potter usually sat with Weasley, to see the ginger duck his head and stick his nose into his textbook. Draco blinked a few more times, turning and glancing back to Potter. “What is this?” He watched as Potter donned a confused look before the Professor clapped her hands loudly, her voice bellowing out in the front of the class. Draco could see some mixed looks thrown their way, but most were paying attention to the professor now. A funny thought struck Draco: what happens when someone whose existence is ignored and someone whose existence is revered sit together?

“Alright class! Today we will be beginning the process of Amortentia.” The few groans mixed with giggles cycling through the room has Professor Gallentrix smiling as if she has some sort of secret as she adjusts her glasses. “Whomever you are sitting with will be your partner for this week long process-” She suddenly stops as she spies Draco, and Harry sat next to Draco, before clearing her throat. “Well- I mean-” She smooths her hands down the front of her robes, walking down the aisle toward Harry. “Aside from you, sir. You can move back to your original seat. With Mister Weasley over in the back. Wouldn't you prefer that?” She speaks this part in a low voice, as if it's a secret or perhaps she just didn't want Draco himself to hear. 

“No, actually, I'm fine right here.” Harry replied, smiling tightly toward her and placing his hands on the table as if ready to grab ahold to keep himself there if forced to move.

“I must insist, Harry. Ron shouldn't sit alone for this project.” 

“Oh, but Draco can?” Harry challenged, an edge to his voice. He glared at the old professor, his hands tightening into fists on the desk. Draco watched on with wide eyes, not sure how to fix this. He didn't want Harry in trouble, not on his behalf. Though he wondered if Harry could ever actually  _ get _ in trouble. 

“Sorry I'm late professor!” Granger called out, Draco glancing over toward the entrance as she walked in. Draco furrowed his brow- wouldn't she look more flustered if she was late to class? “I was in a meeting with the Headmistress, I have a note.” She flicked her wand lazily and a yellow slip of paper floated across the room slowly toward Gallentrix as she began walking around the edge of the room, coming up to sit next to her boyfriend. Weasley leaned over, whispering something into her ear, though Granger covered it with a kiss to his cheek. 

Gallentrix scowled at this display, snatching the note from the air and crumbling it in her hand. “I assure you Miss Granger. I was told about your meeting with the Headmistress. I don't need a note.” She turned around, stalking toward the front of the class and climbing up one step onto the stage at the front, bringing her just above eye level with the students sitting in their chairs. 

“Ah- No offense, Professor Gallentrix, but I know. The Headmistress said to give you that note and ask that you read it aloud to the class.” Granger spoke with ease, sliding into her chair finally and setting her book bag next to her on the floor. Draco turned his attention toward the seething woman at the front, who turns her glare toward Draco as if he was responsible for this. 

“Fine,” She spat out, lifting her hand and unfolding the note, she began to read aloud, “‘Due to some recent concerns for safety, every detention served must have a teacher and a separate witness present to watch over the detained student.’ What is this?” She furrowed her brow, looking directly to Granger. Draco turned in his seat again, watching as she stood and smiled politely toward the Professor, folding her hands over her stomach.

“As the note states, there are some recent concerns for safety during times such as detention. A teacher and a witness, typically a head boy or head girl, such as myself, will both attend the detention. At the end the witness will put their signature on a form stating the detention was not a cruel or unusual punishment and that the student carried it out to the best of their ability. There will be a little section for notes to state if something out of the ordinary occurred. If you have any concerns involving the new rule you will need to take it up with the Headmistress.” She finished her seemingly planned speech and sat back down in her seat, smoothing out her robes under her hands. Draco watched as Weasley leaned over to kiss Granger’s cheek before he turned his attention to Harry sitting next to him. Harry’s full attention was centered on glaring at the Professor, though Draco noted that he didn't seem at all surprised about the newly instated rule.

“Fine. As I was saying before Granger interrupted the class, we’ll begin brewing Amortentia today. Whomever you are sitting with will be your partners for the week. Begin.” She turned on her heel, stalking quickly toward her desk.

A hand was raised, a timid girl’s voice calling out, “I'm sorry Professor, but what page of the book is it on?”

“It is your  _ eighth _ year in this school, and the second time you've taken this specific class! If you don't know already then-” Professor Gallentrix began very heatedly before being interrupted by Granger.

“It’s on page 346, Clarissa.” She spoke in a kind voice and smiled at the girl across the room, everyone beginning to open their books to the page. Professor Gallentrix huffed loudly, moving to her desk and sitting down before fidgeting with the papers on her desk. 

Draco blinked, looking down at his hands clasped together in his lap. He shook his head, trying to make sense of everything. Obviously Professor Gallentrix had wanted to do a large project that could count for most of the grade, forcing Draco to work by himself on a potion that requires at least two people, forcing him to fail. She had all her bets set on him sitting by himself as usual. Draco should really be thankful toward Harry but he couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't have done anything in the first place. 

“What did you mean?” Draco jumped slightly, glancing up to see Harry staring at him intently. “Before, when you said ‘what is this?’” Draco just shrugged in response and opened his well used, but still in great condition, potions book. Flipping to the correct page he stood, scanning the list of ingredients. 

“I'll be back,” Draco says quietly, moving to the supply closet. Once inside he scoots around other bodies also looking for jars he needs, and reaches out to grab according to what he read for the first day of brewing. Taking a moment to himself he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and counting in his mind before making his way back to the desk. Harry had already started heating the cauldron, the blue flame alight under the metal. Draco slowly set everything down onto the table, being careful not to let his hand get close to the fire or cauldron. 

“Draco?” Harry said quietly, moving slightly closer toward Draco. “Is everything okay? We had fun studying together yesterday. I figured sitting next to you in class would be okay?” Draco sighed, raising a hand to rub between his eyes.

“It’s fine Potter. Everything is fine. Keep an eye on the cauldron, we don't want to mess this potion up.” Draco began opening different jars, laying them on cutting boards and grabbing the specific knives for the different ingredients.

“I can't believe she tried to move me back to my seat. It was like she was  _ trying _ to get you to fail or something.” Harry spoke angrily, shaking his head, casting a spell to check the exact temperature of the cauldron.

“That's because she was,” Draco mumbled quietly in return, chopping up rose stems. Harry quickly glanced over, leaning closer. 

“What? Why?”

“Maybe because everyone hates me?” Draco mumbled angrily, chopping slightly harder than he probably should have. They continue in silence for a moment before Harry nudges him softly.

“Not  _ everyone _ hates you.” He whispers, and Draco glances over, raising his eyebrows. 

\-----

The rest of the class went as expected, brewing and Professor Gallentrix sulking at her desk. Once the class was dismissed Draco began to pack his bag quickly when Harry placed his hand on Draco’s elbow. “Walk with me?” 

Draco sighed and nodded, mumbling a “If I must,” Before packing slowly to wait for Harry. They took their time, waiting until everyone left, Harry waving at Granger and Weasley as they walked out, before they began to leave. 

“Mister Malfoy. Remember you have detention here tonight.” Professor Gallentrix called out in a high pitched voice, and Draco sneered, rolling his eyes, but keeping his face turned away.

“And don't forget you need a witness during this time, Professor. I'll send Hermione over tonight.” Harry said, raising his eyebrows as if daring her to contradict him.

“Potter, let's just go.” Draco mumbled, wrapping his hand around Harry’s wrist and pulling him out the door. Once outside he quickly drops Harry's wrist as if it burned him, raising his hand to his face and watching as a slight pink colour faded back to white. 

“Malfoy, you're freezing.” Draco was shaken slightly, as if forgetting Harry was there momentarily. He shrugged and began to walk away, figuring if Harry wanted to walk with him then he’d follow. “Malfoy, wait! What is with you today?”

“What is with  _ me _ ?” Draco asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow and turning to see Harry following behind him. “You were the one to sit next to me out of nowhere and make everyone remember I existed.” By the time he finished the sentence he was practically yelling in the empty corridor, his hand flying around enthusiastically as he spoke. 

“What's so bad about people knowing you exist?” Harry countered, not understanding. Draco stopped in his tracks, turning to face Harry full on.

“When they remember I'm here, I get bullied more. And not just hexes that I can block with a simple shield spell, Potter.” Draco growled low under his breath, shaking his head and looking over Harry’s shoulder toward the large window showing the lake. “They spill ink over my papers I'm working on. They put explosive ingredients into my potions. They charm the object I'm transfiguring to scream if it's touched.” Draco took a deep breath, meeting the green, green eyes again. “They don't want to hurt me, Potter. They want to  _ ruin _ me. They want to make sure I can never work in the wizarding world again. They want to make me regret living.” Draco’s voice caught on the last word, whimpering quietly as he blinked and tears, that he hadn't realized he had, began to fall across his cheeks. “And being seen with you, Potter. That makes people notice me. That makes people want to punish me for even daring to befriend the  _ ‘Saviour’ _ . That makes people think I have some nefarious plot against you and everyone in this school. They will retaliate, they will hurt me, they will-” Draco’s voice cut off once again from a sob now, and Harry, who had been watching with a dumbstruck face, immediately reached out and pulled Draco against his chest. 

Warmth- too much warmth surrounded him as Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s shaking body. He felt like he was on fire again, it was too much. Draco dragged in a deep breath, involuntarily whimpering in the back of his throat. Harry began rubbing his back, making soothing noises before dragging him toward one side of the hall. They slid down the wall together, Harry holding Draco as he sobbed against his school robes. This wasn't supposed to happen. The speech was supposed to scare Harry away, not do this. 

Too much heat, surrounding him, all around.

He couldn't keep doing this. He shouldn't stay friends with Harry. Because they  _ will  _ retaliate. They  _ will  _ hurt him. And they  _ will _ take away the one thing he ever wanted in this life and had finally gained, somehow. Harry.

The warmth seeped into Draco’s bones, and he felt himself stop shaking as much. For the first time in a very long time, before his house fire and before the fiendfyre, he no longer felt cold. Harry continued to make soothing noises as Draco calmed, rubbing his back and sending heat into his spine. Draco looked up, meeting Harry's eyes once again. A hand reached up and wiped the tears from Draco’s cheeks, and Draco took a deep, calming, warm breath. Harry smelt of sunshine and fresh grass. He smelt like warmth. Draco buried his head into Harry’s neck, deciding he could stay like this for just a bit longer.


End file.
